<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>I’m Here. by luckyflower</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24713968">I’m Here.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckyflower/pseuds/luckyflower'>luckyflower</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crying, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:29:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,488</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24713968</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckyflower/pseuds/luckyflower</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>It’s at that moment he decides he’s had enough of subtlety, enough of flirty little comments that go no where.</i><br/> <br/><i>He’s not just going to sit here and watch someone he cares about hurt so much.</i></p><p>  <i>Can’t hurt to be a little more bold, can it?</i></p><p>(( Or; On his way to get a (non-alcoholic) drink, Qrow finds a very sleep deprived Ace Op in need of support. ))</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>91</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I’m Here.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey! sooo, this is my first published fic and i’m super nervous... but i hope you enjoy!</p><p>tw; brief mention of alcoholism, unhealthy coping mechanisms</p><p>this fic isn’t too angsty, clover just needs a hug (and he gets one because it’s what he deserves)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It seems that there’s a pattern in Qrow Branwen’s life.</p><p>A pattern that consists of; no matter where he is, or what he’s doing, he can never get a full night of rest.</p><p>He’ll sleep for a few hours every night, but wake up way too early, sometimes early enough it’s not even considered the next day yet.</p><p>First it was because of the tribe, because of the constant fear of being rendered useless and killed or punished for the misfortune he brings.</p><p>After that it was Beacon. The seemingly endless questioning thoughts that plagued him as he tried to sleep, tossing and turning, wondering if he was doing the right thing by abandoning his tribe’s way of life, of giving his life to actually becoming a huntsman.</p><p>Then, it was a mix of nightmares and missions and alcohol. Nightmares of Summer’s disappearance, of Tai getting hurt, or of Raven‘s abandoning. Missions of flying through the sky, higher than any man can go, spying on the enemy, fighting the enemy. Or simply just drowning himself in alcohol, too drunk to sleep, or too busy trying to find someone to spend the night with, to keep his troubling thoughts at bay.</p><p>After Beacon fell, it was a constant itch in the back of his mind. A constant pull on his heart. A pull that fears something will happen to Ruby or her friends as they travel across Anima, or with him getting too close, a spike of misfortune hitting at just the wrong time.</p><p>Then it was Haven, and everything that came afterwards.</p><p>Everything that kept Qrow awake during that time is a blur now, a list of events drowned in liquor, trying to forget they ever happened.</p><p>It hurts to think about, it hurts to try to remember. It gives him a headache to recall how he felt in those moments, because he didn’t really feel anything.</p><p>Which is quite the contrast to how he feels now.</p><p>Things have been different since coming to Atlas. A good different. After approximately twenty years of drunkenness, Qrow Branwen is just over a month sober. It doesn’t sound like much, it doesn’t sound like very long at all, but whenever he voices that, a few people tell him otherwise...</p><p>
  <i>I’m so proud of you Uncle Qrow! We all are!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>It’s so good to see you smile so much, Qrow. I’m glad you can feel safe here in Atlas.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>You’re not giving yourself enough credit, that’s an incredible achievement! I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I’m really proud of you, and I’m here if you ever need someone to talk to.</i>
</p><p>Qrow smiles a stupidly giddy smile. He tries to hold it back, but can’t help it from widening to cover his whole face. They’re right, he should be proud of himself. He <i>is</i> proud of himself.</p><p>It’s not like he’s currently wallowing in the dark, that’s not what’s happening at all. He just can’t go back to sleep. It’s as simple as that. </p><p>Qrow figures it’s from being in one place so long, something he hasn’t experienced in a long time. It could also be some left over alcohol withdrawal, but he doesn’t exactly feel uncomfortable and nauseous like he has for the past few weeks.</p><p>Perhaps it’s just that old habits don’t die.</p><p>So instead of getting too frustrated, Qrow decides to get a drink. </p><p>There’s a private rec room nearby that’s been designated to him, the kids, and the Ace Ops. It holds a small kitchen, with a fridge full of sodas that Qrow’s grown to crave from time to time. It also holds a living space, a couple of couches facing a TV, a few board games and desks.</p><p>It only takes about two minutes to get there. The room is located right next to the Ace Ops private rooms, leading Qrow to believe it was made just for them, but was offered to him and the kids to get everyone used to being around each other.</p><p>Brothers know the Ace Ops needed some time to get used to the endless chaos that occurs on a regular basis.</p><p>Once Qrow is right at the door, he checks the time, wondering whether he could get away with using the microwave to heat up some food without waking anyone.</p><p>
  <i>4:24am.</i>
</p><p>He decides against it. Anyone would be able to hear him if he tries to make food, and knowing his semblance, he’ll end up smashing some kind of glass on the floor anyway.</p><p>Qrow sighs and opens the door, taking a few steps in before he stops.</p><p>Clover’s sat slumped into one of the armchairs, his scroll lighting his face. His brows are furrowed together and there’s dark bags under his eyes. He looks completely drained.</p><p>“Clover?..”</p><p>The man startles and looks up with wide eyes, and the huntsman notices just how unfocused and strained the Ace Ops eyes actually are.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Qrow asks, walking forward and sitting on the arm chair of a couch, his original goal of getting a drink completely forgotten.</p><p>Teal orbs blink back into focus, scrunching tight once before opening again, clearer. “Uh...“ He coughs, “...yeah- yeah, I’m fine.”</p><p>Qrow frowns. His voice is so tight, so worn and struggling, it hurts the huntsman. Clover swallows a few times and clears his throat with another sore sounding cough.</p><p>Upon instinct, Qrow stands up and gets a glass of water. Clover mummers a quiet thanks under his breath when it’s handed to him, and downs the whole thing.</p><p>“Thirsty, huh?” Qrow settles back onto the arm rest, watching the younger man with concern.</p><p>Clover smiles sheepishly and wipes at his mouth, coughing a few more times before speaking again, much clearer this time. “Guess I just forgot to drink. Happens when you’re up at one in the morning.” He chuckles humourlessly, and Qrow’s done that himself too many times to not hear the ache behind it.</p><p>“Cloves?”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“It’s half four.”</p><p>The Ace Ops eyes widen before his mask quickly takes over again. “Oh. Must have lost track of time.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck.</p><p>Qrow sighs. Damn the military and their emotionless training. After a few moments of silence, he asks, “Can’t sleep?”</p><p>Clover looks away, brows furrowing even more than before. “Not exactly...”</p><p>Qrow raises a brow in question. Clover sees the action and continues, “Well... I mean, I can sleep, I want to sleep... but I have too much to do, so I can’t.”</p><p>Crimson eyes gaze at the scroll being fiddled with between calloused fingers, catching a glimpse of walls of text before an alarm sounds from it, turning the scroll red.</p><p>“Ah, sorry.” Clover says, apologetic as he turns it off.</p><p>“What’s the alarm for?”</p><p>Clover leans forward and places the scroll on the coffee table. “I have one set for every half hour. Wakes me up incase I fall asleep.”</p><p>Qrow’s eyes widen a fraction, hurting from just listening to him. He sets alarms to stay awake? He’s forced to stay awake in the first place? He has to sit in the rec room every night by himself, suffering?</p><p>“Clover...” Qrow whispers, but trails off immediately when he realises he doesn’t know what to say.</p><p>“I’m fine, Qrow, really.” He smiles, but it hurts Qrow even more, because it’s so fake. “I wouldn’t let the lack of sleep get to me. I’m used to it by now anyway.”</p><p>“Used to it? How long have you been staying awake like this?”</p><p>“Uh...” Clover rubs the back of his neck, sheepish once again. “...a few months, maybe? I don’t really remember.”</p><p>Qrow frowns. This is the man who goes on for hours about Qrow needing to look after himself, and now look at him... hypocrite. </p><p>“Clover, you need to get some sleep.”</p><p>Clover picks up his scroll, activating it and holding it up to Qrow; as if proving a point, but pulls it away again before he can read any of the words. “Can’t.” Is all he says, and there’s a bite to his words that Qrow’s never heard directed at him before.</p><p>“You’ll be way too tired for briefing tomorrow, let alone what you’ll be like in the field-“</p><p>“I’ve been doing this for months Qrow.” He responds, not fazed at all. “You haven’t seemed to notice a lack of focus in the field on my part.” He quips, an almost challenge in his tone.</p><p>“That doesn’t make it okay.” Qrow says firmly, narrowing his eyes.</p><p>Clover fixes Qrow with a glare, a glare that does hold some heat behind it. Qrow’s never seen him like this.</p><p>“You’re awake right now, I don’t see how it’s any different.”</p><p>At that comment Qrow finally remembers why he came here in the first place, and starts heading towards the fridge. He doesn’t miss Clover flinch backwards as he stands, but chooses to ignore it.</p><p>“I’ve already slept for a few hours.” He says with a small shrug as he rummages through the shelves, smiling a little when his eyes land on a familiar can. Qrow stands up and turns his head to Clover with a pointed look, cracking open the can and hearing the familiar hiss from the sparkling liquid as his hands work in a rhythm he’s got too used to doing recently.</p><p>“You, however...” He continues as he walks back toward to Ace Op. “...have <i>not only</i> been awake since brothers knows when, but have also been working the whole time.”</p><p>Clover at least has the decency to look a little embarrassed about it. But he recovers quickly, and the mask returns.</p><p>Qrow has lost count how many times he’s cursed the Atlas Military at this point.</p><p>“Well, some of us have responsibilities we can’t just run away from.” Clover states matter-of-a-factly. The jab at Qrow’s coping mechanisms doesn’t go unnoticed, but he chooses to ignore it, considering the flash of regret that clouds teal eyes.</p><p>“Gods, you sound just like Jimmy.” Qrow mutters, mainly to himself, and not really meaning to say it out loud.</p><p>But he can’t help but wonder, as he watches Clover shrink in on himself in defeat, if he’s said the right thing.</p><p>“Maybe you’re right.” Clover whispers in return, his head falling helplessly into the couch cushion behind him, cheek pressed against it with a sigh.</p><p>Qrow takes a few sips of his drink, watching Clover’s eyelids flutter uncontrollably. Either in an attempt to sleep or to stop himself from crying, Qrow doesn’t know.</p><p>It’s at that moment he decides he’s had enough of subtlety, enough of flirty little comments that go no where.</p><p>He’s not just going to sit here and watch someone he cares about hurt so much.</p><p>Can’t hurt to be a little more bold, can it?</p><p>Clover startles when he feels one of Qrow’s hands snake under his legs, then the other at the small of his back.</p><p>“What are you-“ Clover suddenly looses the ability to speak, the ability to breathe as Qrow lifts him up, holding him bridal-style. Heat quickly rises to his face, and with the added warmth from Qrow’s close  proximity, Clover feels like he’s on fire.</p><p>It doesn’t help that Qrow’s holding him so gently, so full of care and- well...</p><p>Clover doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, but the softness in Qrow’s eyes as he looks down at the man in his arms is enough to leave Clover hopeful.</p><p>Maybe someday he’ll be able to call it love.</p><p>Their position doesn’t last long as Qrow turns around, takes a step back and sits comfortably in the arm chair Clover was previously in, the Ace Op placed softly in his lap.</p><p>A lot of thoughts flood Clover’s mind, not one of them helpful for his current ability to not speak.</p><p>But maybe they don’t need words. Maybe Clover doesn’t need to ask questions, because maybe he understands what Qrow’s doing.</p><p>And just maybe, it’s working.</p><p>Clover suddenly feels very heavy, but at the same time weak, and he realises he’s been holding his weight, lifting his limbs so he doesn’t put it all on Qrow.</p><p>And that’s really what this is about, isn’t it?</p><p>Hoarding all his problems so he doesn’t burden them on anyone else. Taking some of James’ responsibilities to allow the man some rest, telling the other Ace Ops not to worry about paperwork or reports, because Clover can take care of it for them.</p><p>Even going as far as offering Winter help in her duties, seeing if he can relieve some of her stress. She had been the only one to decline, and Clover never figured out if he was grateful or not.</p><p>A hand moves to cart through Clover’s hair, another moves to cup his cheek, gently guiding his head to lay on its side, on Qrow’s chest.</p><p>And finally, Clover let’s his full weight drop onto Qrow, and a few tears fall as he buries himself further into the huntsman, desperate to cling onto him, desperate to be held by him.</p><p>A quiet sob escapes his throat, it’s almost too quite to be heard, but it’s full of pain, that much is clear.</p><p>Clover doesn’t know what it is about Qrow that helps him relax so easily. Maybe it’s their semblances, or the understanding they share because of it. Maybe it’s their different personalities; pessimistic and optimistic.</p><p>Or maybe it’s just who they are when they’re alone together.</p><p>They’re not Specialist Operative Ebi and the legendary huntsman Qrow Branwen; they’re not the leader of the Ace Ops and a former member of team STRQ; nor are they a good fortune semblance and a bad fortune semblance.</p><p>They’re just Clover and Qrow.</p><p>They’re just two huntsman in a war, fighting to protect the people they care about, to protect each other.</p><p>They’re just two people desperate for comfort, who have lived through their own versions of loneliness.</p><p>They’re just two people who found each other, who don’t want to let each other go.</p><p>And that’s who they’re meant to be when they’re together.</p><p>It’s perfect.</p><p>A thumb brushes against Clover’s cheek, wiping away the stream of tears, and he feels so much affection fill his heart, it’s almost too much. The Ace Op hides his face further into the Huntsmans body, smiling with relief of finally letting go, and Qrow squeezes him tight, whispering, “I’ve got you, lucky charm. I’m here.”</p><p>No more words are spoken that night, only the sounds of their heavy breathing and occasional snores as they sleep in each other’s arms, happy and at peace.</p><p>The noise starts up again when the kids and Ace Ops enter the room early next morning.</p><p>Ruby and Yang make sure to never let Qrow and Clover forget the time they found them fast asleep in the rec room, holding each other with the most contented smiles on their faces.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading!!</p><p>i really hope clover and qrow are in character here, and the dialogue and everything fits. </p><p>i’d really appreciate any feedback (but please be kind, as i’m not confident in my writing at all)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>